


Together

by waitfor_it



Series: Hamilfam [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 09:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitfor_it/pseuds/waitfor_it
Summary: Welcome baby Angelica to the world.





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> I love these kids change my mind

“Mr. Hamilton,” The midwife sauntered into the room, her ease only agitated him further. He sprung up and met her halfway. “It's a girl,”

 

“How's my Betsey?” He asked, smile hopeful. 

 

The midwife nodded, and turned to lead the way. Each step down the hallway added to the pain in his chest, questions flooded into his mind.  _ Is she alright? Is my child alright? _ The worrisome thoughts came in rapid succession, repeating endlessly until he found himself in the doorway, smiling once he met Eliza's tired eyes. 

 

Tears pricked the corners of his own, and all at once, a world's worth of pressure had been lifted off his chest. His daughter held closely to Eliza's bosom, suckling with pure contentment with each thick swallow of colostrum, he felt much at peace, like everyone else in the room. “Betsey…” 

 

Eliza closed her eyes, sighing her own ease in response. Her breathing steady even after such a strenuous event, she was exhausted, it was evident on her face. Her eyes forced open every so often to glance at her child and then meet Alexander's eyes before fluttering shut. He said nothing, but walked forward to sit on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

 

She nodded, taking a slow, shaky breath. “I'm tired.”

 

“Tired?”

 

“Very.” She said, laying her head back. 

 

“Should I take the baby?”

 

Eliza shook her head, grip on her daughter tightening. “She needs to eat about every hour, I'll stay with her, you tend to Philip, will you?”

 

He nodded his agreement at his end of the bargain. “Can I hold her?”

 

Eliza approved of his request, passing the fragile infant into his arms. He'd been through this song and dance before, cradle the head, hold the baby close to your chest, so on and so forth. The feeling was familiar, it was a feeling he savored much like the first time, and he figured it would remain the same with each child Eliza bore for him. Her eyes blue, much like his own. Eliza had said they could change, but he liked to entertain the thought of his own mock-up. Her wispy hair a strawberry blonde, curling in tiny ringlets around her head, he pulled one straight, only to watch it bounce back into place, a tightly wound coil. Alexander nuzzled her close, kissing her gently. 

 

“Hello, my dear Angelica.” The name had been premeditated, be it a girl, she'd be named for her aunt, a boy, named for her father. Tears threatened to spill again and he dared let one fall. It almost stung his skin as it slid down his cheek and flowed onto his mouth, he licked his lips, meeting the salty taste of his tears. It was a taste he had long since forgotten, yet he was so quickly reminded. 

 

But this time, it was for a good reason. He let another fall, followed by another while he hugged his daughter as tightly as he could without risking injury to her delicate existence. “Daddy loves you so much,” he whispered into her ear, she didn't understand the words he offered, but they kept coming nonetheless. “He'll always be here for you, never forget that, Angie.”

 

Alexander sniffed, attempting to stop the flow of tears. Gingerly, with all the love and care he could put forth, he passed the child back to her mother, giving his wife a chaste kiss. “I'm so proud of you,”

 

She gave him a smile, as big of a smile as her compromised state would allow. He pushed the stray hairs out of her face, petting her hair lovingly, planting one last kiss on her forehead, he bid her adieu, and left to tend for his eldest son. 

 

—

 

Philip was, in every sense of the word, a toddler. He was nearing his third birthday, and Eliza warned, having grown up with many siblings, always said with a weary smile, “It will get easier.”. His behavior was typical of someone making their way through the terrible twos. He wanted what he wanted and took no less. Philip was a bright kid, and that's where the trouble came in. He was  _ smart _ , and could see through Alexander's tricks every time. Outsmarting him was out of the question. 

 

“Daddy, daddy!” He called, running through the halls, their midwife trailing behind. “Where’s mommy?”

 

“Mommy is with the new baby, my boy,” Alexander said, lifting Philip into his arms. “but we can have fun just the two of us, can't we?”

 

Philip furrowed his brow and pursed his lips, contemplative. “What if I wanna see the new baby?”

 

Alexander thought hard about how to tread around this easily, if he said one thing out of line he would lose. Communicating with a child of his age felt much like planning your next move in chess, except your night's sleep was at stake. 

 

“We can see the new baby, but not now, she's resting, and so is mommy. How about we go for a walk through the garden?” Distract, distract, distract. Eliza taught him that, with all her infinite wisdom and guidance.

He pouted, but nodded vigorously at his father, and Alexander set him on the ground and watched him take off past the midwife and out the door. 

 

They passed each other, and he smiled at her. “He's like a wind-up toy,” he paused, and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Keep an eye on my dearest Betsey, would you, dear?”

 

“Of course, Mr. Hamilton. She's in good hands with me.”

 

He nodded his head in understanding. “I'll be back as soon as I can tire him out.”

 

“Good luck,” she spoke as he went out the door, already drained from the ordeal to come. 

 

— 

 

Alexander did what he could to keep Philip entertained, even if that involved swinging him in circles until he could barely walk. His energy was seemingly boundless, he always vibrated at the highest frequency possible. However, he still had the strength to sit Philip on his shoulders, and he kicked his legs against his chest. “Daddy, wanna swing!” He leaned back experimentally, and Alexander got the message. 

 

“Lean back, boy. I'll swing you.”

 

They did this near daily, Philip would lay down on his shoulders, Alexander held his feet tightly and swung him in a wide, open circle. Philip's excited laughter and scream filled the air around them. His joy was contagious, and Alexander savored the sound of his laughter, as if one day he would never hear it again. He did everything he could to prolong that childhood innocence, before it was gone without a trace. 

 

“Again!” He sang out, and his father complied, spinning him again and again, until they were dizzy and near falling over. Alexander bent backwards, letting Philip's hands touch the grass before deeming it safe enough to let him catch himself. With a countdown from three, he let go and his son erupted with laughter once more. 

 

But he sprung back up after a moment of stillness, prompting Alexander to groan. “You don't want to go again, do you?” He huffed, sitting in the grass to meet Philip eye level. 

 

He stuck his tongue out, crossing his arms impatiently. “You're just old!”

 

“Old?” Alexander laughed. “How old do you think I am?”

 

Philip shrugged, turning on his feet and rocking. “Dunno, probably a million.”

 

“I'm twenty-five, you dolt.” He feigned hurt, but his correction was wasted on him, nonetheless,

 

“Still old,” he blew a raspberry, screeching out when Alexander scooped him off his feet and pinned him to the grass, tickling his sides.

 

“Your old man ain't that old, is he?” Alexander grinned down at his son, his eyes screwed shut and legs kicking frantically. “Say it, Pip.”

 

“Never!” He yelled, thrashing against the sensations as Alexander's fingers danced on his skin, “Stop it!”

 

“Never!” Alexander mocked, pulling him up and hanging him back on his shoulders. Philip's laughter continued as he made his way back up to the house, dangling upside-down and out of breath. 

 

Making his way towards Eliza's bedroom, he dropped Philip backwards onto the bed and laughed, “it's yours now.”

 

“Mommy can I hold the baby?” Philip shouted, reaching outward to the sleeping child in his mother’s arms. Alexander shushed him, petting his hair lightly. 

 

“She’s sleeping,” he warned. 

 

Angelica stirred to life in Eliza’s arms and whimpered. Eliza exhaled with exasperation, “Not anymore, if you sit next to me and hold still, you can see her.” Grinning, Philip crawled up to his mother and leaned against her. “Make sure you cradle her head in your arm and hold her close to your chest.”

 

Philip held his sister close, and Eliza held his arms up so he couldn’t drop her. He wasn’t strong enough to be trusted that something wouldn’t happen. He smiled at the baby, then up at Eliza, who smiled weakly in return.

 

Alexander felt peace, pride for his wife, love for his children, the world had never seemed so calm. Philip giggled when she yawned and shifted in his arms. His heart swelled with joy and adoration for his family, the little family they made together. 

 


End file.
